Every Moment
by DeathRow609
Summary: POTENTIAL SPOILERS. Spanning years of time, Ezio writes letters to Cristina, even when she wants absolutely nothing to do with him anymore. Then, when her death approaches, she finally discovers that every moment he describes was true... true only to her.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: SO! This would be my first story for Assassin's Creed! :D This fanfic is, pretty much, a series of letters from Ezio to Cristina over the years. And yes, Cristina may respond to them, but I'm too lazy to write hers, and seriously, does anyone want to read an entire fanfic of letters? No, that would be boring. Anyways, each chapter will have Italian translations at the bottom! Please review! :)**

**Disclaimer: All ownership of the Assassin's Creed series belongs to Ubisoft, of course.**

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><p>Uno<p>

"Cristina! Cristina! _Per favore_, open the door."

The young woman sighed in discontent as she was forced to get up from her comfortable position on her bed and cross her room to answer her father. Even more so, however, she wouldn't be able to stand it if he continued his incessant knocking.

"Yes?" she asked with a slightly vexed tone in her voice.

"You have a letter, my dear." Her father explained. He cleared his throat before continuing "I do not know who it's from, but perhaps you can recognize the handwriting."

And with one, brief glance, Cristina Vespucci certainly could. She could never mistake that hurried scribble of her name on the envelope. Her father handed her the letter, and she took it delicately, trying to contain her excitement. A smile graced her lips as she kissed her father on the cheek and hurried back to her bed.

"_Grazie_, _Padre_!" she nearly squealed in delight.

Her father stood in the doorway, a quizzical expression on his face. Yet, after a few moments, he grunted and began to close her door. Before shutting it completely, however, he made a last remark.

"Do not forget _la vostra visita_ with Manfredo* this afternoon. You remember how long it took me to arrange it with his family?"

Just wishing for him to leave, Cristina spoke sharply. "_Si_, _si_!"

Her father closed the door at last, but she could still hear him call to her as he walked down the hallway. "Be sure to wear your finest dress as well! He is your most ambitious suitor after all!"

"I know!" she called back. She turned her attention to the letter again and, with eager fingers, tore open the envelope. The same handwriting scrawled across a frayed, yellowing piece of paper. It was probably the same parchment that was used for bank notes. Her smile widened as she began to read:

_**Mio carissimo **_**Cristina,**

**I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your intimate company last night, and I am sorry for what happened. Had I left sooner, your father surely would not have discovered us and forbade me from your household. I would usually call it bad luck, but in this case, my own stubbornness is to blame. I am sure you have no trouble in forgiving me; however, if you would, please pass my apologies along to your father. I love you with all my being, Cristina. I will see you again very soon. **_**Te lo prometto**_**.**

Cristina sighed as the man's words struck a chord in her heart. She pressed the paper to her chest, closing her eyes as she imagined the words being said in his smooth, deep voice. She couldn't help but giggle softly. She stood from her bed yet again and moved to her window, where the cool, morning breeze whirled through her hair. She noticed that no matter how much the wind caressed her skin, her cheeks were burning with a bright blush that warmed her entire body.

She then proceeded to her nightstand, where she hid the letter in the drawer with many other contents. Yet, upon further inspection, one would realize that these contents were actually a growing collection of letters. All from the same sender. Cristina went to her assortment of many fine gowns and chose a flowing, crimson dress with gold adornments. She quickly shed her nightwear and changed attire. Before long, she returned to the nightstand and pressed a firm hand on its surface. Her lips pressed together in a small smirk as she exited her room and shouted down the spiral staircase.

"I am ready, Father!"

The year was 1476… and no matter how many suitors came to call, Cristina Vespucci's heart irrevocably belonged to one Ezio Auditore.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two will be along soon! I'd be very, VERY appreciative of reviews, folks! Here are the translations.<strong>

**Per favore- please**

**Grazie, Padre- thank you, Father**

**La vostra visita- your visit**

**Si- yes**

**Mio carissimo- my dearest**

**Te lo prometto- I promise**

*** So, I'm sure most of you know this, but if you don't know (or if you haven't gotten to Brotherhood yet), then Manfredo Soderini eventually becomes Cristina's husband. ;D  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have never uploaded this quickly for a fanfic before. Wow. XD**

**Disclaimer: Me no own. You no shoot my face.**

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><p>Due<p>

It was only a few days later, in the evening, when Cristina burst into her room and slammed the door violently behind her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with tremendous sobs as she gripped a piece of paper in one hand. She clamped the other over her mouth to prevent the choking, gasping noises that escaped her, as she didn't want to get her father's attention from downstairs.

She had just returned from the Arno, where she had rendezvoused with Ezio. He was preparing to leave with his mother and sister to Monteriggioni, a place where they could be safe for a while. Ezio had asked—at one point, nearly pleaded—for Cristina to go with him.

She rushed over to her bed and buried herself into the sheets, crying into her pillow. The letter was now crumpled into her fisted hand as her eyes squeezed closed. Why hadn't she just said yes? It was such a simple word, one that would've secured her future with Ezio… and one that would've made her happy. To be free of the pressures of choosing a suitor would've been lifted off of her shoulders if she had chosen to elope with the man she truly loved.

But, Cristina refused him. She convinced herself that she couldn't stand being away from her family.

She made excuses.

She clutched the crest pendant that hung around her neck with her free hand and kissed it before unfolding the letter. It was one she had received yesterday, when everything began to take a turn for the worst.

_**Il mio amato **_**Cristina,**

**There is no doubt that you have heard the news by now… that my father and brothers were hanged today. I felt so helpless, and I couldn't do anything to stop it! There were so many guards; I would have been killed if I stayed any longer. And that **_**bastardo **_**Uberto Alberti. A man my father once called "friend," a man my father TRUSTED. I will make sure that I take his life for his taking of theirs.**

**Yet, before I do that, I swore that I would see you again, Cristina, and that I will… if you do this favor for me. Meet me just after sunset at the docks, but make sure you are not seen. Guards from the execution will be there, patrolling. They have planned to dump the corpses of **_**mio padre e fratelli**_ **into the Arno. I will need your help in saving them, in giving them the proper funeral rites they deserve. I cannot in good conscious—no, ANY conscious—allow this to be their burial. They would never be put to rest if so. I love you so much, Cristina. Please be there.**

Cristina wouldn't disappoint Ezio, and she didn't. She lied to her father and told her that she was going to an art exhibit with some friends.

And she ended up letting Ezio go.

She lay limply in her bed, sniffling and nuzzling her face into her pillow. She couldn't believe what she had done! She knew that he had to escape, that to keep Maria and Claudia from harm, he would have to leave Firenze. But, why had she been so stupid? Why didn't she follow her heart?

"_S-Signorina_?"

Cristina looked over her shoulder at one of her servants, Alessia, who had entered and closed the door behind her almost silently. Cristina sat up abruptly, wiping her face with the backs of her hands.

"What are you doing here, Alessia? You were sent home hours ago."

Alessia, who was three years her senior*, walked over to the side of the bed, holding something in her hand. "I… I saw Ezio leaving the city."

"You did?" Cristina took Alessia's shoulders, grasping them as another tear slipped from her left eye. "Did he say anything to you?"

Alessia nodded as she explained slowly. She revealed a piece of paper, rolled up and tied with twine. "He only told me, 'So many words left unsaid.'" She handed the paper to Cristina. "I headed here as soon as he gave me this."

Cristina stared at the letter for a moment before closing her eyes, trying to fight back her tears, to no avail. She took the piece of paper from Alessia, her head bobbing up and down numbly in a nod.

"Thank you, Alessia…" she whispered.

"_Certo_." Alessia put a finger under Cristina's chin and raised her head to where they were looking into each other's eyes. Alessia managed a smile. "I consider you a little sister, Cristina. Please… try not to let this upset you. You did what you had to do."

Cristina nodded again. "Alright…" Yet, even after Alessia had long since left, and Cristina had changed into her nightgown and tucked herself in bed, Alessia's words rang in her head.

You did what you had to do.

Cristina had stowed the older letter away with the many others from Ezio. The new one was now on her nightstand, next to a newly-lit candle. She sighed, taking the letter in her hands and undoing the twine. She smoothed the piece of paper out on the edge of her nightstand before his handwriting met her eyes.

_**La mia anima gemella**_** Cristina,**

**This was a letter that I should have sent to you the night we met. **_**Mi dispiace tanto**_**.**

**Never before has a woman taken me aback as you have. Your stunning beauty, your sparkling eyes, and your charming wit could all make a man fall to his knees in prayer, thanking God for what a bright and lovely angel He has sent. When you first rejected me, I basked in the sheer luck that you had even spoken a word to me. And when I managed to beat Vieri, your grateful kiss sent shivers down my spine. Your words echoed in my ears for many nights after that, with no hope of repressing them. I couldn't stop thinking about you… and I never will be able to. I need you, Cristina. I want you. I cherish you more than I cherish my own life. I will love you forever. **

_**Con tutto il mio cuore**_**,**

**Ezio Auditore**

For the first time in her life, Cristina cried herself to sleep that night.

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><p><strong>AW GOD! :( That was painful, even for me. Chapter 3 coming soon!<strong>

**Translations: Il mio amato- My beloved**

**Bastardo (though they say this a million times in the game)- bastard**

**Mio padre e fratelli- my father and brothers**

**Signorina- Miss**

**Certo- Sure**

**La mia anima gemella- My soulmate**

**Mi dispiace tanto- I'm so sorry**

**Con tutto il mio cuore- With all of my heart**

***This makes Alessia 20 years old, folks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: Ubisoft birthed the Assassin's Creed series. All three, with a fourth along the way.**

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><p>Tre<p>

1478 was an eventful year for the Vespucci family. Alessia had welcomed a healthy, baby girl into the world with her husband, Romano, and a party ensued for five days. Cristina's father had also whisked his wife away on a romantic trip to Venice to celebrate their 20th anniversary together.

Most importantly, however, Cristina's marriage to Manfredo had finally been arranged.

The finest silks had been delivered from Milano to fashion her wedding dress. As she was being fitted for her bodice at the tailor one day, she couldn't stop thinking of it. Cristina Soderini. It flowed very easily in her mind, and when she spoke it—quietly and to herself, of course—it rolled off of the tongue. Cristina Soderini, Cristina Soderini…

Cristina Auditore.

Her head broke the water's surface of her bathtub, and she smoothed her dampened hair down and wiped her eyes. She sprawled in the bubbly, warm water, shaking her head. Now, where did THAT thought come from? Cristina bit her bottom lip as she took her bar of soap and slid it up and down her arms that were slick from the steam.

She scoffed softly. She hadn't seen Ezio in two years! And she was ready to become the wife to a rich nobleman. It would make her happy, her father happy, and it would keep her in good standing. She didn't want anything more than that. At least, that's what she told herself…

When she had finished with her soak, Cristina went for a walk about the town. She had some shopping to do. Alessia still needed some things for the baby, and she still didn't have the strength to be out of bed for too long. So, Cristina had agreed to take on the chore for her beloved servant.

As she headed for the market, a breeze swept everything up around her, including her gown, and she stopped for a moment to keep it down. Suddenly, a piece of parchment blew around on the ground in front of her. After struggling for another moment, Cristina took the paper in her hand and looked at it slowly.

A gasp escaped her as she dropped it, and the wind resumed to carrying it away down the cobblestone street. It wasn't addressed to anyone. It wasn't even signed by the writer. All it took was one glance to realize who that writer was. The letter had simply read:

**I'm coming back for her.**

Cristina broke out into a frantic sprint, or at least what running could be allowed in the shoes she was wearing. It wasn't possible; there was no way!

Ezio was returning?

She rounded a corner towards her home, her feet throbbing and aching. He was risking his safety, the safety of his mother and sister, to come back to see her? Cristina's thoughts raged madly in her head. It couldn't be true!

At last, she had to slow her pace. She breathed heavily, placing a hand on her chest. Perhaps that letter was intended for someone else. Perhaps there was a man who shared Ezio's exact, distinctive handwriting. There could be such a man out of the thousands in Firenze; Cristina was sure!

She hurried through the courtyard that led to the front door of her family's villa, only to be met by her mother, sitting on an old bench of stone.

"Cristina, _mio caro_, you look frightened!" the older woman said softly. She stood up and approached Cristina, taking her daughter's hands into hers with concern. "What's the matter?"

"I…" Cristina said breathlessly. "I think he's back, _Madre_."

"Who?" her mother pressed.

"… Ezio."

Violetta* sighed, brushing Cristina's fingers gingerly over her lips and kissing. "Oh, my poor _ragazza_. She cupped her hand on her daughter's cheek before sitting down and offering Cristina a seat. Cristina plopped down with a disparaged breath.

"It might not be him." she managed to say. "It could just be my imagination, but… I really don't think it is." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "In my heart… I know it's him."

Violetta placed a hand on Cristina's back, cooing words of assurance. "We will not tell your father, and… you can stay at home until the day of the wedding. We can hire guards to watch over our villa."

"That didn't stop him before, and you know it." Cristina snapped.

Her mother's lips pressed into a firm line before she spoke again. "Cristina… I will not let him get to you. You are engaged to Manfredo, and no matter what misfortune fell upon the Auditore family, Ezio is too late. If he does get through and see you… you should tell him that. If he loves you, then he will listen to you."

Cristina understood that her mother's words rang true. When Ezio eluded the guards once more and came to see her that night, she told him the truth. Not long after that, Manfredo's life was being threatened at the bridge, and when Ezio left to go after him, Cristina knew he wasn't going to come back.

Hopefully this time, she thought, he would never come back again.

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><p><strong>*Now, I'm not sure if they mention the names of Cristina's mother OR father in the game, so I just winged it. :D<strong>

**Translations:**

**Mio caro- My dear**

**Madre- Mother**

**Ragazza- girl**

**Stay tuned for Chapter 4! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Bwuhahaha SEX.**

… **Who said that? O.O**

**Anyways, Chapter 4!**

**Disclaimer: All credits go to the fine people of Ubisoft.**

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><p>Quattro<p>

1479…

Cristina's eyes fluttered open as the sun's morning rays sprayed across her face through the window. She stirred and shifted in bed, taking a few moments to stretch her limbs. Sighing, she turned onto her side, expecting to see her husband sleeping beside her as most husbands do. But, his side was already made up and tidied. She sat up slowly, frowning.

This was how most mornings began since they had wed.

The nights before would always be fine. They would have a nice dinner together—Manfredo had a surprising talent for making salads—or they would enjoy an evening walk together in Firenze. And on many of those nights, when it was time for bed, they would make love.

Cristina considered every time they did to be their "first time." Sure, the initial pain didn't exist anymore, and the blood flow had stopped. But, the awkwardness never seemed to fade. They would lie together, tangled in the hot, damp sheets, and Cristina wouldn't even be out of breath. Manfredo would already be dozed off, as though it were just another normal end to a normal day.

Even worse, Cristina always yearned for Ezio to be in his place.

She let her legs dangle over the side of the bed as she remembered the nights he had sex with her, how his every touch ignited a fire in her that she couldn't extinguish. She missed the way his lips devoured hers and his soft and hot breaths that were whispers on her skin. She remembered his slow, powerful pace that only made her desire him more, that only made her want more of him. There was never a moment where she didn't enjoy making love to him.

And at least he was there when she woke up.

Cristina stood up and walked over to her dresser to choose the day's attire. Ezio wouldn't be out at the crack of dawn like Manfredo was. The Auditore would be lying at her side, holding her close to his chest, kissing her affectionately and stroking a hand through her hair. She couldn't help but smile as she traded her nightgown for a slender blue dress with slim sleeves. It drove her crazy when his rough hands brushed her.

She heard commotion downstairs, and she shook her head. Manfredo was never any good at making discreet entrances. She hurried down the spiraling staircase of his home and met him at the base. He coughed a little, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear before smiling at her.

"_Buongiorno_, my dear." he sang, being unusually jovial. Cristina raised an eyebrow at him, placing a hand on her waist.

"A bit early to be placing bets at the fight club, wouldn't you agree, _igannare_?"

"I haven't been betting." Manfredo explained as he cupped her chin. "You know I have sworn off gambling."

Only due to a certain person's persuasion, Cristina thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. She finally wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him briefly on the lips.

"Will there be one morning where my husband will truly be at my side when I wake?" she asked, pretending to pout.

"Of course, _il mio amore_." Her spouse answered. "Once we have that little boy running around."

Fear struck Cristina's heart as Manfredo moved past her to enter the kitchen. She heard him call to her, but she wasn't paying any attention. At any mention of bearing his children, she just froze up. And the fact that he was so insistent about the subject concerned her.

Starting a family with him… she shivered at the thought.

She felt bile bubbling in her throat as Manfredo returned to her side, placing a hand on the nape of her neck.

"Did you hear me? I said that we should have something to eat." he told her.

She nodded a little too quickly as she whirled around to face him. "Yes!" she agreed with a small smile. "I'm starving."

He blinked in confusion at her, but he dismissed it with a shrug. "Well, shall we get along then?"

Cristina nodded again as she was led into the kitchen, the smell of fresh herbs filling her nose. Yet, she noticed an envelope sitting on the table, and her eyes widened. There was no way.

Absolutely no way…!

"It is for you." Manfredo said with a light pat on her shoulder. "I didn't want to open it, in the event it was private."

Cristina moved away from her husband and took the letter in her hands. She began opening it gently and turned to head back into the hallway. "I will only be a moment, Manfredo." she assured him.

Once she was by herself, she unfolded the piece of paper and read it. It was only one sentence, but she squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the tears that welled.

**You look very happy.**

A scoff escaped Cristina's lips. Little did Ezio know that she was anything but without him in her life.

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><p><strong>Well, there you have it at last! I'm doing some traveling these next few days, so I won't update for a bit. But stay tuned nevertheless! :D<strong>

**Translations:**

**Buongiorno- good morning**

**Igannare- you fool**

**Il mio amore- my love**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ah, okay! Some inspiration at last! :D Enjoy Chapter 5~**

**Disclaimer: Me owning Assassin's Creed II? Preposterous. Insanity.**

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><p>Cinque<p>

Time seemed the pass by in a blur, with Cristina's life swirling through it uncontrollably. It began when Alessia passed away in 1480 after contracting the plague, and her darling little girl, Sienna, was left without a mother at the fragile age of two. The Vespucci family ended up saying a tearful goodbye to Alessia's husband, Romano, as he took his daughter and migrated to the city of Palermo. Cristina was affected the most. When Sienna was born, Alessia insisted that Cristina become the girl's godmother, and of course, Cristina accepted. She considered Alessia and her growing family to be a part of her very own.

Cristina's father then began feeling ill himself in 1482. The family's _medico_ could only explain the man's deteriorating health with the fact that he was getting older. The doctor simply recommended that he get more bed rest, try to stay active, and return for visits regularly. Violetta wouldn't dare leaving her husband unattended for weeks, and she suffered from exhaustion. For a time, both of Cristina's parents were bedridden, and she came to see them and care for them as often as she could.

However, Manfredo wasn't at all pleased with Cristina's absence. It only escalated the now tense atmosphere between them. Cristina loathed returning to him every night, walking through their front door and seeing him stand there, eyes narrowed at her in jealousy.

"You did not have to stay there for four hours. Do you forget whose roof you live under now?" he would seethe.

Cristina would normally object, telling him how her parents GAVE them the home as a gratuity until Manfredo earned enough money to repay them. It would have been a simple statement of fact, and Manfredo would end up agreeing with her and apologizing for his harshness towards her. But that was not the case.

Now, whenever Cristina spoke one word against her husband, he would continue belittling her, accusing her of lying to him about seeing her parents and being an unfaithful wife. Some nights, when his mood was more foul than usual, Manfredo would lash out and abuse Cristina.

No one knew any better. Every time Manfredo took her out in public to parties and other social events, he would be sweet and gentlemanly to her, always having a hold on her waist and presenting her to his friends as though she were the thing he cherished most in the world. It was a clever façade he had created. If Cristina even attempted to confess the truth to someone, she knew that they wouldn't believe her. They wouldn't notice any bruises or cuts that marked up her face because Manfredo made absolutely certain to never leave any evidence of his cruelty. And that's what inspired him to turn to a different kind of abuse… rape.

Cristina was still wary about having children with Manfredo, and he knew that if she wasn't willing to, then she would be forced to. One summer night, after checking in on her parents, Cristina stayed in her old room, unbeknownst to them. She barely slept, and she cried into her pillow, afraid of the consequences she would face upon returning to Manfredo tomorrow. Yet, she couldn't spend another night with him. She couldn't bear the sting of his hand on her cheek. She felt as though he were slapping her with a plank of wood instead.

The next morning, when Cristina arrived home, Manfredo wasn't there. This might have been her chance to escape. She hurried into their room, gathering her clothes and other belongings, and stuffed them into baskets that her maids kept in the kitchen. Just as she was about to flee, a strong hand pulled her fiercely, and she was thrown to the floor, crying out in pain. Everything she carried was spilled everywhere. Manfredo stood over her.

"Well, well… now you try to leave me?" he snarled hatefully. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. She screamed at the top of her lungs. He responded with a slap to her face. She was weeping now.

"I have a suitable punishment for you, filthy _puttana_." he said as he dragged her up the stairs to their bedroom.

"No, Manfredo, please!" Cristina begged helplessly. "I'm sorry for what I have done! I'm sorry! Please!"

But it was too late. The next thing she knew, Cristina had been sprawled across the bed, her face pressed painfully into the sheets. She could hardly breathe. She heard the fabric of her dress being ripped and torn until Manfredo discarded all of her clothes. She whimpered, tears streaming down her face, as he gripped her hips, hard. She shrieked in absolute horror at the pain that engulfed her then.

Manfredo's violence continued for years. Finally, Cristina knew what she needed to do.

It was 1486. She needed to escape.

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><p>Ah, <em>Venezia<em>! Every day, I wake feeling absolutely blessed to be here.

When the sun peeked through the higher windows and sprayed across the ceiling of his workshop, Leonardo da Vinci always had this thought. He was in bed, admiring the tall, looming beams that nearly glowed in the light.

However, there was no time to fool around. While Leonardo loved Venice with everything he had, his clients kept him much busier than those in Florence. He quickly got out of bed and strode into his bathroom. He then started some warm water in the bathtub and added salts and herbs. He took a moment to test the temperature before shredding his nightwear and stepping in. He sunk down low, the bubbly water lapping his chin.

Even with something as comfortable and enticing as a bath, Leonardo never lingered long. In a matter of minutes, he was already out and dressing into his normal attire. He adjusted the cap he always wore and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Every day was a good day in his eyes.

Suddenly, a furious knocking at his door snapped him out of his thoughts. "_Maestro_ da Vinci!"

"What?" Leonardo called out calmly.

"A letter has arrived for you! May I enter?"

"_Si_."

The door creaked open slowly, and a boy scampered in. He looked barely 11 years old. He handed a very crisp, new envelope to the inventor. Leonardo nodded in thanks.

"_Arrivederci_!" the boy said with a small wave. He then left the room as quickly as he came.

Leonardo held the envelope in his hands for a moment. It was from Florence, and the return address was one he didn't recognize. Maybe it was a new patron? He took a small knife out of his pocket and neatly cut the envelope open. The letter inside was no bigger than his palm. He squinted at the small handwriting.

**To Leonardo ~**

**We should have met some time ago, and I regret that we haven't. I also apologize that our first meeting must be through the written word and not face-to-face. But I need your help. Carnevale approaches in **_**Venezia**_**, yes? And I know that you have befriended Ezio Auditore. Please… you must ensure that Ezio attends Carnevale. Tell him that I will be there; he will recognize me. I will make sure you are compensated for this favor.**

** Sincerely,**

** C.V.**

Leonardo's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Ezio's name. Who WAS this person? How was he so well connected with the both of them? Despite the many questions whirling in his mind, he read one part of the letter over and over again.

"I need your help."

Leonardo stuffed the letter into his pocket with a sure nod. His appointments today would have to wait. He was out the door without any hesitation. There was a certain assassin that needed to be found.

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><p><strong>WOW! Manfredo is evvilll. Longest chapter yet, I figure. :D I hope you guys like it, and sorry for the delay! Chapter 6 is coming soon!<strong>

**Translations:**

**Medico- Doctor**

**Puttana- Whore (but we all knew that XD)**

**Maestro- Master**

**Arrivederci- Goodbye**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ooh, good, yes! I've found some time to update! :) Here comes Chapter 6!**

**Disclaimer: I no own. You no sue, capiche?**

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><p>Sei<p>

Things suddenly took a turn for the better. Cristina could hardly believe it as she sailed on a huge, beautiful vessel on the calmest sea she had ever seen. She stole a glance at Manfredo, standing next to her and looking out over the water. They were headed to Venice together. Just like she had planned.

She convinced her husband that attending Carnevale was her life's dream. She lamented that it was breaking her heart that she never got to do what she wanted, while Manfredo went out and about to balls and other such things. It was a pathetic act, but it worked. Finally, one night, a very drunk and giddy Manfredo had agreed to take her to Carnevale.

He swirled his glass of red wine, watching the liquid swish to and fro with a stupid smirk. "Suuuuureeee." he slurred after a little hiccup. "We'll goooo to _Venezia_!"

Cristina spent the rest of that night in a fit of laughter.

After a long voyage, they finally arrived at a port in San Marco. They very quickly unloaded their things off of the ship and found the villa they had rented, a small, beautiful building with vines clinging to its walls. Only about a half hour after being in the Floating City, Cristina and Manfredo were settled. They agreed that they would find a place to eat dinner and attend the festivities. But before Cristina could change into different attire, Manfredo's face became stern.

"You will not leave my sight for the entire night, Cristina." he stated. "Do you understand me?"

Cristina nodded and responded dutifully. "Yes, Manfredo, I swear to you."

Manfredo studied her intently for a moment. At last, he turned and strode across the room to the window. His back was turned to her. Cristina took this moment to reach into the left sleeve of her dress and remove a note. One simple sentence was scrawled on it, and it was from Leonardo.

**It has been done.**

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><p>Later that night, after a torturous dinner, Cristina had indeed escaped Manfredo's sight. As much as he tried, the allure of a small group of courtesans held his eye for only a moment. Yet, it was a long enough moment for Cristina to slip away into the shadows of a nearby alleyway.<p>

She managed to find a different outfit from a tailor shop, a blue and green dress that cost very little, to blend in with the crowd, and a silver mask that covered her nose and mouth. She prayed with all of her heart that this would be enough to deter Manfredo until she could find Ezio… until she could be in the right man's arms again.

She had met Leonardo for arrangements only a few hours ago near the _Palazzo Ducale_, which was a dangerous area to rendezvous, but one that would keep Manfredo from accompanying her. She marveled at meeting the great artist for the first time.

"It is wonderful to finally see you, _Maestro_ da Vinci!" she said excitedly.

Leonardo nodded. "Likewise, Cristina. Ezio has spoken highly of you."

The mere mention of Ezio's name sent her heartbeat racing, a pink hue prickling her cheeks. Leonardo laughed softly.

"You want to see him more than anything. I can tell."

"Yes." she answered a little too quickly. Then, she sighed. "It's been eight years. Eight years trapped in a marriage I do not want. Eight years suffering under a man I didn't choose! It was him, Leonardo. It was Ezio all along who I loved… and I didn't realize it until it was too late."

"But it ISN'T too late, Cristina. Carnevale is your chance!" Leonardo assured her. "This time, you two can be together for good." His voice lowered to a whisper. "And he can give up the life of an assassin."

Cristina smiled at his words. If there was even the smallest glimmer of hope that she could be with Ezio again, she would take it.

"Just maybe." she finally spoke. "It's all I've ever wanted."

"I've let him know that you are here in _Venezia_. But, Cristina…" Leonardo looked at her worriedly. "Are you sure Ezio will do what you say he will?"

Cristina didn't answer for a moment. Yet, when she did, it was with a confident and loving smile.

"If he's still the Ezio I came to know and love, then yes."

Now, basking under the shimmering light of a full moon, Cristina walked among the people of Venice, past vendors and street dancers and fire-breathers alike. The night was so beautiful! The waters of the canals glistened with the orange glow of the street lamps. Cristina hadn't felt so free in a long time. She was actually out by herself! Not just without Manfredo, but without her father or mother; without any escort of any kind. She was all by herself. She smiled towards the sky.

Suddenly, a muse with an oak guitar strode in front of her, singing in a deep, velvet voice as he strummed his instrument. It brought her back to Earth for a second. She smiled politely, but pushed past him, and her eyes flicked back down.

That's when Cristina saw him. She saw the silk of his white hood, the flow of his red and black cape. She came to an abrupt halt as her eyes followed him. Ezio was in a hurry, his head only lifting to glance over his shoulder. Her lips formed into a firm line. As much as she wanted to get closer— to just be with him already!— she dove deeper into the crowd. He would come to her. That's what she told Leonardo, and she knew it would work.

As though her thoughts had been read, Ezio pulled a slip of paper out of his belt. Cristina was too far away to see the expression on his face, but he had started moving towards the crowd and towards her. This was it. She just had to act normal.

She had wandered into a circle of dancing couples, spinning and twirling briskly to the music of a small band. She was swept up into the dance with a masked man, one who was much older than her. Yet, he seemed nice. Cristina knew that this would distract her long enough to give Ezio an opening. Before she knew it, someone nudged her. She whirled around, out of the hands of her dance partner, to look at Ezio's glorious face. However, he was gone.

The other man only complained briefly before finding another woman to dance with. Cristina pressed her hands to her waist and found a piece of paper wedged in the twine of her dress. She took it and unfolded it slowly. It felt like a thousand years before her eyes met his familiar handwriting. She gasped a little at the sight.

**Cristina,**

**My darling, I must have you alone. Meet me in the alley.**

_**Ti amo**_**, **_**amore mio**_**.**

**-Your husband**

Cristina covered her hand, stifling a laugh. It was ironic seeing Ezio's elegant handwriting saying words that Manfredo would never even utter. She pressed the piece of paper to her chest. There was no time to waste. She jostled her way out of the dance group and down a side-street. That's when she spotted him, out of the corner of her eye. Ezio stood just below a lantern that hung from the wall. He was wearing a mask identical to hers, but she could still see his sly smirk. His arms stretched out, and he offered his hands to her. With a bright smile, she took them, and suddenly, Ezio took her hand above her head, leading her into a graceful spin.

She laughed. For once, she let out a real laugh.

Ezio moved Cristina up against the wall, still holding her hand over her head. His nose nuzzled her cheek affectionately, and her eyes fell half-lidded. Before she got ahead of herself, she pushed one of her hands into Ezio's chest, and he stepped back a little. Her other hand reached up to his mask and took it off.

"I know it's you, Ezio." Cristina whispered.

The assassin stood in blatant shock as she tossed his mask to the ground. A shaky breath escaped his lips as his hand traced over her cheeks and to her mask. He removed it, and his eyes widened in surprise. Tears streaked down Cristina's face.

"Cristina…" he trailed off.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"P-Please." she stuttered weakly. "Just kiss me."

Ezio pressed her close to him, smiling back. His hands grasped her hips. "There's nothing I would rather do, _mio tutto_…"

His lips brushed against hers softly, his hold on her tightening. A moan emitted from her throat as her eyes closed, pulling him nearer and intensifying the kiss. Their hot breaths mingled as Ezio's tongue slipped into her mouth, touching hers lightly. She tangled her fingers in his hair, forcing his hood to fall. His hands trailed up her arm, his lips devouring hers in passionate want and need. She felt her knees threaten to buckle, and she whimpered. His arms curled around her waist, holding her up, pressing her harder into the wall. She panted as his lips trailed down the salty skin of her jaw and neck.

"Oh, Ezio." she managed to say. "I've missed that so much!"

Ezio smiled again, stroking his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears. He choked up a little himself. "I know… I know."

Cristina took his hands into hers, their fingers weaving together. Her eyes met his, tears still welling in them. "Take me away with you. We can go anywhere we wanted, as long as it isn't _Firenze_! There's no way Manfredo could find us. Please—"

Ezio shushed her, placing a finger on her lips.

"We have tonight, Cristina." he said soothingly. Then, he pointed to the sky. "We have the fireworks." He looked back at her, kissing her on the cheek. He lingered there for a moment before whispering into her ear. "We have each other… always."

Her tears spilled over as he enveloped her in his embrace once more.

"Be mine." Ezio told her.

Cristina nodded, cupping his face in her hands. "I always have been, Ezio. I always will be."

Ezio smiled lovingly as he tugged his hood back over his head. He then moved away from her a little bit, offering his arm. "_La mia signora_."

She giggled, putting her hand to her chest dramatically. "Why, Ezio! You flatter me!" She entwined her arm with his, all smiles, as they exited the alleyway and went to dance together under the stars.

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><p><strong>AN: Oh, a happy moment! :D Thanks for sticking with me! Chapter 7 will come along soon!**

**Translations:**

**Palazzo Ducale- the Doge's palace**

**Mio tutto- my everything**

**La mia signora- my lady**

**Again, a HUGE THANKS to everyone who's reviewing! Even the anonymous people. :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Alright, I hope you guys are ready!**

**Disclaimer: This author owns no part of the Assassin's Creed series… as much as she'd like to. XD**

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><p>Sette<p>

It was in the waning hours of the night that Cristina and Ezio finally left the festivities. Cristina had no doubt that they both enjoyed their long-awaited time together, not a doubt in the world. However, Ezio had to remain undetected. It was important that even while they were celebrating, he had to keep a sharp eye out for any of his enemies and stay under cover.

Cristina thought of it as a sort of game. When a group of guards passed them as they danced, Ezio would bury his face into her neck, kissing there slowly and tenderly until they moved on. And whenever they weren't dancing, they retreated to that same alleyway and huddled close together, their faces hidden by their masks as well as the shadow from Ezio's hood. It was extremely romantic.

She couldn't help but still blush at this as they walked hand-in-hand. Ezio's cape was now draped over her shoulders to keep her warm. They strolled through the thinning crowd of Carnevale until they reached where Ezio had been staying.

"A brothel?" Cristina hissed in alarm at first. Ezio laughed softly as he brushed her cheek with his hand.

"My friend, Antonio, suggested it, since it is closer to Carnevale. Nothing more." he assured her.

They walked in together, and Ezio shut the door behind them before pulling his hood down and removing his mask. Cristina took her mask off as well, but then paused for a moment to study Ezio's face. She giggled a little.

Ezio turned to her with a smirk. "What is it?"

"I've been curious to see if the Ezio under that mask had changed from my Ezio." she explained. She kissed him on the cheek lightly and looked into his eyes. "I'm relieved to see that you are still my Ezio."

He returned her kiss, this time on the lips. Their faces were inches apart as he whispered.

"I always will be."

Cristina heard footsteps approaching them, and Ezio pulled away from her to take a slight bow.

"Sister Teodora."

"Ezio. I am glad that you've returned." The older woman stated. Cristina found herself staring at this lady, admiring her strong features.

"And this is?" Teodora inquired. Cristina's eyes flitted to the floor.

"This is Cristina Vespucci, Sister." Ezio said, his arm now wrapped around Cristina's waist.

Before Cristina could speak for herself, Teodora's expression darkened considerably.

"Vespucci?"

"Y-Yes…?" Cristina said nervously.

Teodora shook her head with a scoff. "Someone came by asking for a girl by the name of Vespucci. He was very intoxicated, and so I asked him to leave as politely as I could. He claimed that you were hiding among us, and he demanded that we return you to him. He searched my _bordello_ in its entirety—in closets, under beds, anywhere he could fit inside— and at last, he left. My girls were very frightened."

"Manfredo!" Cristina gasped. "Oh no… he's looking for me!" Ezio's hold on Cristina tightened as he pulled her closer to him.

"Who is he?" Teodora pressed.

"Cristina's husband." Ezio clarified.

"Oh, Ezio…" Teodora tsked. "I knew you to be a ladies' man, but this time—,"

"This is serious, Sister." Cristina suddenly snapped. Both Teodora and Ezio looked at her with surprised expressions.

"Manfredo is a man that will be none too pleased if he discovered me here." she continued, tears welling in her eyes, as she faced Ezio and gripped his collar. "You don't know what he will do to me once he finds me! I cannot go back. You have to help me."

"He mistreats you?" Teodora said in shock.

Cristina pressed her lips into a firm line as she saw the change in Ezio's eyes. He was no longer the sweet, love-struck Ezio that she had danced with all through the night. The tide had turned now; a lust for blood swam in his narrowed orbs. The true assassin was rising to the surface. He moved away from her quickly.

"How long has it been since Manfredo came, Sister?" he seethed.

"A half hour…" Teodora replied quietly.

"_Bene_. Cristina, you will stay here." he commanded. "It is unlikely that he will return for a while. I will have all the time I need to find him… and end him."

Cristina's eyes widened as she tried to take Ezio's hands. "No, no, there's no need to kill him, Ezio! We just need to leave _Venezia_ together! Please!"

"He won't stop, Cristina!" His voice was biting now. "He will go to the end of the world to find you, to make sure that you are his and his alone… to make sure that you remain his SLAVE."

"But does he have to die?" Cristina pleaded. Tears were now freely spilling down her face.

"Any man who abuses his woman deserves death." Teodora insisted, placing her hand on Cristina's shoulder. Cristina shrugged the Sister away, her hands cupping Ezio's flaming cheeks.

"Ezio… if you really are my Ezio like you say… you won't do this!" she sobbed. Ezio's hands folded over hers, and their eyes met briefly.

"I am," he answered. "And I will do anything it takes to protect you." He then sprinted out the door.

"YOU WOULD EVEN KILL?" Cristina screamed at the top of her lungs.

Yet, it was too late. Ezio was long gone. Cristina let out a frustrated cry as she collapsed to her knees, cradling her head in her hands. Teodora knelt beside Cristina, gathering her in her arms. Some courtesans now gathered around, confused by all of the noise.

"Oh, my child…" Teodora whispered as Cristina cried into her chest. "You have been away from Ezio longer than you realize."

Cristina refused to believe it. She tore away from Sister Teodora, breathing heavily and removing her shoes. She threw them to the floor.

"I'll stop him!" she said as she raced out the door as well. Ezio's cape flew off of her shoulders.

"What?" Teodora called out. "Cristina, wait!"

Cristina hadn't remembered running as fast as she did since she was a child. She must have been crazy to try and pursue him. She didn't even know where he had gone! But, she ran. She ran until her legs and feet ached. She went all the way to the Rialto Bridge. By some enormous stroke of luck, she suddenly heard yelling.

"Please, I beg you, NO!"

Cristina saw the flash of a blade before lunging forward. She was suddenly sprawled over a frightened Manfredo, pressed up against the wood planks of the bridge, and Ezio, blinded with rage and pinning him down. Ezio stopped right in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight. Cristina was panting, pressing Manfredo to her chest.

"Don't you dare." she gasped.

"Cristina!" Manfredo sighed in relief. "Oh, _Dio mio_!" He clung to her as though he was a wet cloth. In the back of her mind, Cristina questioned whether he had sobered yet or not. It had been a while since he held her this way.

Ezio backed away, his hidden blade retracting. "What… are you doing here?"

Cristina didn't answer at first. She helped Manfredo to his feet, and he kept a now suffocating hold on her, his face buried into her neck.

"My darling, my Cristina! You don't know how happy I am to see you! You saved me!" he continued, his voice muffled into her dress. She placed a gentle hand on his chest, and their eyes locked. He fell silent as she moved away, her gaze now meeting Ezio's. The assassin stood, stunned.

"So… you really will protect him?" he whispered.

"Yes, Ezio." Cristina answered simply. "I married Manfredo. I made a commitment to him."

"A commitment to a man who hurts you, a man who doesn't love you and respect you?" Ezio's voice began to rise.

"Listen to me!" Manfredo suddenly intervened. Cristina's and Ezio's eyes were both on him now. Manfredo looked to the ground in shame.

"I've made a grave mistake in harming you, Cristina. I've been a horrible husband, and I could not be more sorry…" He pressed his lips into a firm line, glancing up at Cristina for a moment. "The day this man saved me in _Firenze_, I told him that I loved you and that, if he killed me, I would die still loving you. I meant that, Cristina. I really did." Manfredo's eyes shifted to Ezio. "Even he can tell you that."

Cristina looked at Ezio as the assassin nodded numbly.

"_Si_…" he murmured.

Cristina bit her lip, trying her best not to cry. She took Manfredo's hand, inhaling deeply before she spoke. Her words were directed at Ezio. Every fiber of her being screamed at her not to say what she did, but it was too late.

"Ezio…" she whispered. She desperately hoped that her voice wouldn't crack. "I'm leaving with Manfredo now. Never look for me again. Ever."

Before another word could even be uttered, Cristina tugged on Manfredo's hand, leading him away from the bridge. Ezio remained rooted to the spot, his eyes at Cristina's back, until she and Manfredo disappeared into the night.

Without quite realizing it, tears spilled down his face. Everything he had planned was ruined. He wanted to take Cristina back to his room and stay the night with her. He wanted to make sweet, passionate love to her just like they used to. And the next morning, he wanted to make her breakfast in bed and surprise her with a vase filled with fresh-cut roses. It would have been perfect; it would have been the perfect way.

Ezio rummaged around in his pouch and took two things out. One clattered to the ground at his feet, and he held the other in his hands for a moment. It was a piece of paper. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tore it in half and let it drop to the ground as well. Then, he was off. With nimble feet, he took off towards a building, scaled the wall, and vanished. What now sat on the splintered planks of the bridge was a silver ring with an emerald stone. Next to that was the ripped letter with a single sentence written upon it.

**Cristina, will you marry me?**

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><p><strong>AN: I'm… declining to comment. T_T**

**Translations:**

**Bordello- brothel**

**Bene- okay/good**

**Dio mio- my God**

**Stick around for chapter 8!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: "Aaaaat laaaaast!" (RIP Etta James 3) Anyways, I've finally updated! I hope you all enjoy this thoroughly. :D**

**Disclaimer: No. Just no.**

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><p>Otto<p>

She had hoped with all her heart. She had prayed up and down that it was all just a horrible dream. Yet, when she rolled reluctantly onto her side, her hopes disappeared. Manfredo breathed evenly in and out next to her, the sheets curled around him. Cristina could have broken into tears. She was back at square one, right where she began: her body in the bed of the man she detested but her mind and heart with the man she loved miles away. She wasn't even sure how many miles away now, with Ezio so upset.

She choked on sobs, pulling at her hair. It hadn't been any alcohol talking; she didn't drink a drop in the night's celebration. No, _she_ had spoken. She told Ezio those things that she absolutely didn't mean, things spoken in a voice of insanity.

Maybe that's it, she thought.

Cristina had yet to disturb Manfredo's slumber as she slipped out of bed. She wrapped herself into a thin robe and descended the spiral staircase into the kitchen. The sunshine poured in through the windows, making Venice shine in its splendor. Yet, not even the sunny weather could lift Cristina's mood. She shuffled through papers strewn on the kitchen table. One was addressed from Florence, which she hesistated to open at first. But, she recognized the return address as her own. She suddenly tore through the envelope.

Her father had died.

Cristina could hear the letter written in her mother's forlorn voice. She could imagine her mother dressed all in black, a veil suspended over her face like a pause in time. And that's what Cristina herself felt as the letter floated slowly to the floor. As she felt the weight of the world sink onto her shoulders. And then… as she felt nothing.

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><p>The funeral was brief. Cristina's father wasn't one to drag his affairs out unnecessarily. He had printed a short will that mainly dealt with his financial standing. Ownership of the Vespucci villa fell to whomever Cristina married, which she had no doubt that her father had Manfredo strictly in mind all along. A man would head the Vespucci household; her father wouldn't have accepted any other way.<p>

Cristina was back in Florence, and she was back in her prison. Loneliness consumed her; Manfredo had hardly spoken a word to her since their return, and Violetta hadn't spoken a word at all. Cristina spent most of her days lounging in her bedroom, occasionally stepping out onto the balcony. She stared down at the empty alleyway below, musing at how much it reflected her life. There was nothing else to spend her time doing, really.

Finally, she heard a knock at the bedroom door. Manfredo entered a bit shyly, holding an envelope in his hand, but she refused to react. Even when her eyes met that all too familiar scrawl, she remained still as stone. Manfredo sighed.

"_Voglio scusami_, Cristina."

She kept her silence, but nodded slightly, giving him permission to say his peace. Her husband placed the envelope on her bedside table and gingerly took her hands in his.

"I'm very sorry we have not spoken much since leaving _Venezia_." Manfredo continued, looking into her eyes. "But, I have been thinking very deeply about our marriage and how it has pained you not only because of my doing, but also because of your feelings for this other man."

He paused, now cupping Cristina's cheek with his hand. "I swear to you, as God is my witness, that I will never lay a foul hand on you again. Just stay with me. I will be everything of the loving husband you deserve. I will support you and your _madre_ through these difficult times. All I ask is that you forgive me and be with me. You chose me over him… yet, I want it to be for the right reasons, as he would have wanted as well."

Cristina didn't answer right away. It was strange for Manfredo to regard anyone very highly, much less the man that truly had his wife's affection. But, she realized his sincerity. When she replied, it was with the smallest of smiles. She stared straight into his face.

"I forgive you, _mio caro_." she whispered.

Manfredo sighed once more, kissing her lightly on the forehead. His lips then moved to hers, lingering there for the briefest of moments. They pulled apart, and he smiled brightly.

"Bless you, Cristina. I'm going to the market."

As he began to exit, Manfredo eyed the envelope he had set on Cristina's table. His eyes met hers as he gestured with his head.

"These letters are from him." he said. "Somehow, I always knew." With that, he went out the bedroom door and closed it behind him. Cristina reached for the envelope and a thin, sharp knife that she used to neatly cut the envelope open. She unfolded the letter inside, setting the knife down and read:

**You've made your choice. May you always find happiness.**

_**Sinceramente**_**, Ezio Auditore**

Cristina kissed the paper feverishly, gasping a little as she did. Tears streaked down her face. "I never will, Ezio…!" she pleaded to no one. "I never will now…"

She stumbled onto the balcony, the wind whirling through her hair. She breathed heavily, the cool air clearing her lungs. She looked at the letter and swallowed before managing to return to her bedside table. She picked up the knife in her free hand, treating it with care.

Cristina then took her place on the balcony again. The letter flapped in the wind as she held it with only two fingers. She angled the blade toward her open palm and sliced a clean line into her skin, her tears falling faster. She clenched her teeth as she crumpled the letter with her bleeding hand. The knife clattered to the floor.

She shuddered as the air picked up again. Then, she numbly opened her hand, letting the stained letter drop to the street below. Cristina sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut. Her hand stung as though she had poured salt on it. When she opened her eyes, they caught the gleam of the knife.

That's what it was. Insanity.

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><p><strong>One word: dark. Good grief… quite literally. Reviews would be much appreciated! Chapter 9 to come along soon!<strong>

**Translations:**

**Voglio scusami- I want to apologize**

**Mio caro- my dear**

**Sinceramente- sincerely **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So! I'm working on NOT taking forever to update, and so far it's kind of working haha! I really, really want to thank everyone for their awesome reviews. :) Are you ready for Chapter 9? Because here it comes!**

**Disclaimer: I own no part of the Assassin's Creed series.**

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><p>Nove<p>

1498…

Lorenzo de' Medici's death in 1492 and the ousting of his family made Florence a city in chaos. Its new ruler, a priest named Girolamo Savonarola, was anything but; he became a tyrant. He condemned art, literature, and any valuable material that expressed the deep knowledge of the present day. A thick, black haze now constantly covered Florence from the daily burnings of paintings and books. Savonarola controlled the city and its people, and he was never seen without carrying a golden ball that glowed whenever he spoke.

Manfredo had lost his position as a nobleman, since he no longer possessed the Medici's favor. In fact, he was forced into hiding. No one who awoke in the morning opposing Savonarola's cause lived to see the sunset that evening. Citizens who worked under the Medici were regularly being slain in the streets, in broad daylight, to the horror of hundreds. It was truly frightening.

Manfredo's unemployment, along with her mother's death a year ago, left Cristina with hardly a florin to her name. It amazed her how time had changed so. Almost 20 years ago, she was the shining star of Florence, with men clamoring at her for a mere glance. She had a wealthy family and a prosperous future. Now, she was lucky to even have enough food to prepare one meal.

Cristina massaged her stomach, trying to remain calm. She watched out her bedroom window as the orange glow of twilight spread across the city. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a soft pair of hands slide around her waist.

"_Mia moglie_." Manfredo cooed into her ear. "How are we feeling?"

Cristina smiled as he lined kisses up and down her neck. "It's been quiet. There has hardly been any pain."

"Good." he said between pressing his lips. "And you look lovely today, Cristina."

Her cheeks warmed with a blush as she turned to face him. She couldn't help but feel relieved every time Manfredo stayed safe.

"_Grazie_." she replied, pecking him lightly on the lips. They held each other for a moment, Cristina nestling her face into his shoulder. Until they heard violent pounding.

"No, not again!" Cristina gasped, her grip on her husband tightening. She could hear the shouting at the front gates of their villa. It was Savonarola's soldiers.

"Do not panic." Manfredo assured her, locking eyes with her. "You must tell them that I am still away."

"They will not fall for that another time!" Cristina argued. She felt tears beginning to well. "Please, Manfredo, there has to be one more option!"

"Not one that won't endanger you!" he said sharply. He then pressed his hand onto her stomach. "Or this."

Just as Cristina succumbed to his warm touch, Manfredo flew away from her, gathering his personal effects in his arms. "I will hide in the barn again and stow these things in the attic. You must stall them for as long as you can. But, do not do anything to defy them, do you understand? You do what they say."

"Yes." Cristina answered dutifully. As Manfredo rushed down the hallway, she cradled her full belly. You and I need to be safe, young one, she thought. There was now thumping at the villa's front door. She traced circles on her stomach before heading down the hallway as well. She hurried down the stairs and strode to the door. She inhaled through her nose before pulling it open. Five men, clad in iron armor, loomed over her by a good foot. Longswords were fastened to all of their belts.

"_Buonasara_, _signora_." The tallest one, a captain, addressed her in a booming voice. "Is Manfredo about?"

"I am sorry to tell you once more that Manfredo has yet to return from _Milano_." Cristina answered.

"He has been gone for years!" Another guard exclaimed. "Have you not counted each and every one?"

"Yes, I have, and it has been three." Cristina said strongly. "Shall I repeat myself? He isn't here."

The captain neared her, brushing her shoulder delicately with his hand. "Yet, why would he not return for _il suo fiore_? I am sure he wouldn't let another man take what was rightfully his." Cristina folded her arms protectively around herself as he looked at her slightly round stomach.

"What would he do if you were defiled?" he continued.

She ignored his jab. "I'll kindly ask you to leave now."

The captain snatched her wrist with his hand, squeezing hard. Cristina yelped in pain as he twisted it, chafing her skin.

"You have fallen pregnant with his child, and he would not leave during such circumstances." he hissed. "Where… is… Manfredo?"

"Search everywhere!" Cristina cried. "I am telling you the truth! He really isn't here! See for yourselves!"

The captain released her and signaled his men to enter the villa. They jostled Cristina until she fell to the floor, holding her wrist. The skin there was raw and pink. She could hear every inch of the villa being turned over. Dishes shattered on the ground. Curtains were ripped. Tables tipped over, and blankets were torn. Cristina's eyes widened. She regained her footing and rushed up the stairs back to her bedroom. Two soldiers were present. One was shuffling through her desk drawer, where her most valuable collection was hidden.

They couldn't touch those. They couldn't destroy all that remained of Ezio in her life.

"Stop that! Don't look in there!" she demanded.

"A lot of letters, _signora_, but not from your beloved husband." The soldier cackled, stuffing the papers back into the drawer. He seized her around the waist, and she attempted to fight as he bit at her neck.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Cristina screamed. She continued to struggle as the other guard helped his comrade hold her down. "You have no right!"

Then, muskets were fired outside. The guards put distance between themselves and Cristina. One of them chuckled.

"Damn him. Just as we were about to have our fun." He pinched Cristina's rear with a growl as he and his fellow man left. She fell against the wall, sliding to the floor as she heard every soldier depart from the villa. It wasn't until she the echo of galloping horses resonating through her ears that she clamped her hand over her mouth. She tried to suppress her weeping, to no avail.

"Cristina? Cristina!" Manfredo's voice called out.

"I-I'm here, _tesoro_." Cristina croaked weakly.

Manfredo rounded the corner into their bedroom. He sighed in relief at the sight of her, kneeling and collecting her in his arms.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Only a little." she sniffled, holding her arm up for him to see. He took her hand tenderly, kissing her inflamed skin.

"We will leave this place, Cristina," Manfredo assured her. "once and for all. We will ride out at dawn, taking only what we can carry."

"Where will we go?" Cristina blubbered. "What of our belongings?"

"I'm sorry. But, we shall leave everything else here." he explained, standing. "Try not to worry. Romano* has agreed to accommodate us until we can start a new life."

Cristina stood as well. "Romano? How is he? Is he still in Palermo?"

"No." Manfredo replied. "He relocated to _Roma _so that Sienna may receive a better education. He has secured a new position for me there, as well."

"Thank God."

Manfredo snaked his hands around Cristina's waist, kissing her deeply. As he pulled away a moment later, he nodded.

"You need rest." he told her. "Lie down and get some sleep. I will gather our things."

Cristina's head bobbed up and down in a numb response, yet she made her way toward the bed. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as Manfredo rummaged around the room.

"Manfredo?"

He turned to her. "_Si_?"

She swallowed nervously before she spoke. "The letters in my desk. Send them to Leonardo da Vinci. I don't know where he could be now. But, a man such as he can't be too difficult to find."

"I understand, Cristina. I'll see what I can do."

She smiled before mouthing a 'thank you' to him. Soon, she was swallowed by blackness.

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><p>When Cristina woke again, the sun was high in the sky. Just how long had she been under? She shuffled a little in her sheets to find Manfredo lying on his back, staring vacantly at the ceiling.<p>

"Have you slept?" she whispered to him.

"No…" he murmured. He turned his head toward her. "Yet, I found where _Signore_ da Vinci is. He resides in Monteriggioni."

Cristina perked at the name. That was the city where Ezio's uncle lived. So, surely Ezio must have been there to have Leonardo visit, or even stay. She arched her neck back to look Manfredo in the eyes.

"Then we must send the letters immediately."

A few hours went by before their cherished items were loaded into a carriage, with the help of some movers. While Manfredo oversaw the work, Cristina remained in her bedroom, sliding Ezio's letters into a parcel. She pressed a hot, wax seal onto the parcel to secure them. Then, she dipper her feather pen into a vial of ink and copied a name on the parcel's front. In her finest handwriting, she printed 'Ezio Auditore da Firenze'.

Cristina took the package with her as she joined Manfredo outside. He remained out of view of passersby as the last of their belongings were packed. She handed the package to the carriage driver.

"Please ensure that this is delivered. You'll be paid a handsome reward."

"Yes, _signora_. With all haste." The driver responded with a tip of his hat. After the carriage door was closed, he cracked the reins and took off toward the gate of Florence. She watched it go as the sun sank lower in the sky. Then, she returned to Manfredo, who sat on a bench.

"Now, we wait for our carriage." he said. His hands fumbled in his lap nervously. Cristina knelt before him, stroking them with her fingers.

"It will come before you know it." she told him softly. Her hand reached for Ezio's gift that dangled from her neck. Ezio would read her letters before she knew it.

Yet, instead, a group of guards descended on them. There must have been more than a dozen. Manfredo and Cristina both stood in alarm as they were soon surrounded.

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><p><strong>Oh NOOOOOOO! Guys, this next chapter… will be the last. ;_; Please, please review! Chapter 10 will be on its way soon!<strong>

***I hope you guys remember Romano and his daughter, Sienna. Cristina is her godmother!**

**Translations:**

**Mia moglie- my wife**

**Il suo fiore- his flower**

**Tesoro- darling**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: A thousand thanks to everyone who decided to review this story! :) I'm glad you enjoyed it, and look for other stories from me in the future! Now, time to wrap this bad boy up…**

**Disclaimer: For the last time. NO haha.**

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><p>Dieci<p>

She felt her pulse quicken. It nearly jumped out of the skin of her neck as the guards tightened their circle around her. She looked to Manfredo, who had thrust his arm before her in protection. He looked over his shoulder at her. She had never seen him with such panic in his eyes.

"So!" One guard called out, gesturing with his arms. "The fox has come out of his hole."

"Whatever you plan to do, take only me." Manfredo pleaded. "My wife has no part in this. Savonarola wants me!"

"He did." Another guard taunted. "But we have had a change of orders."

Cristina wrapped her arms around Manfredo as the guards moved closer still. She trembled against him as tears pricked at her eyes. So they mean to kill us both, she thought. She watched as the guards became so close that one's sword was inches from her face.

"If you come quietly, you may be spared." The first guard spoke.

Manfredo acted before Cristina could even utter a syllable. He tackled the guard, earning a deep gash along his bicep, and he pushed Cristina out of the circle.

"RUN!"

Cristina took off as fast as she could, and the guards took only a moment before following. She wanted Manfredo at her side, holding her head, running together with her. Yet, he stayed behind her, never taking his hands off of her back, urging her on. The guards shouted about her and Manfredo's faithlessness to the Lord. How Savonarola would not allow them to live now that they had attempted to flee. It did not slow Manfredo down. He and Cristina crashed through a group of monks as they cut a corner into the next plaza. Passersby screamed and ran in every direction.

Suddenly, Cristina heard a strangled cry. She no longer felt Manfredo's hands on her back. She turned around as he wrestled a guard, attempting to disarm him. Cristina pressed her hands to her mouth as she neared a well in the center of the square. She couldn't move. She had frozen up. She was helpless. Manfredo cried out again as the guard's blade sliced down his spine.

"NO!" Cristina shrieked.

Manfredo fell forward, right into her arms. Blood streamed down his back, staining his shirt. The horde of guards began to surround them once again. Manfredo strained to put a hand on the back of Cristina's neck, breathing into her ear.

"Leave me here. Do not stop." he rasped.

"Never." Cristina retorted. "I will not!"

"You must!" Manfredo groaned with pain. "You must be safe. You must keep our child safe."

"I can't leave you, Manfredo." Cristina wept.

Manfredo collapsed to the ground, his back supported by the cold stone of the well. She knelt beside him, tears rolling down her face. His glossy eyes met hers for what would be the last time.

"Please, _amore_…" he gasped. "Do this for me. Live."

Cristina felt a guard grab the collar of her dress and pull her to her feet. Instinctively, she crunched the man's nose with her elbow, freeing herself from his hold. She sprinted in another direction, not even taking a moment to look back. She couldn't. She could only send a silent goodbye to her husband, the man who had just given his life for her.

Her lungs began to burn as she struggled for breath, still trying to elude the guards' pursuit. She could feel her blood pumping, her heart slamming against her ribcage. She didn't know how much longer she could keep her pace. She had to find sanctuary. But who on Earth would protect her at their own risk?

The streets were hectic as Cristina raced on. Bystanders ran in every direction, making it hard for her to maneuver through the crowd. The guards were right behind her. She couldn't relent.

However, another group of guards now moved in front of her. She attempted to avoid them by heading for an alleyway, yet guards were there as well. She whirled around, panting and desperately seeking escape. But, she was trapped. Out of the many faces of authority, she recognized the captain that led the siege of her home. He took her viciously by the arm and twisted it behind her back. She screeched.

"Now, you will join your husband in hell." he seethed into her ear.

A sharp blade penetrated Cristina's side. She inhaled sharply, as though she had been pinched. Warm blood trickled down the inside of her dress. She thrashed around, trying to free herself, but the pain only quadrupled in intensity. It was as though she had been set aflame. Her scream was so blood-curdling that even the captain maintained distance from her. The knife clattered to the cobblestone at his feet.

Little did Cristina know that it was not her screams that caused him to release her. From the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of black, roughly in the shape of a man. She clamped a hand on her wound as she focused on this silhouette. There was only one person it could be.

"Ezio?" she cried out.

"CRISTINA, RUN!" he roared.

She witnessed his extended arm and heard a gunshot. The captain was now crumpled on the ground beside her. But, there was no time to waste. Still placing pressure on her wound, she ran once more.

"You have sins against the Lord!" one guard yelled as they chased her. Gunshots echoed in her ears, one after the other. She heard the moans of pain coming from the guards Ezio had slain. Yet, a few were still on her heels. One's sword slashed her shoulder blade, and she screamed in agony. She slowed to a limp. She wrapped one arm around her waist, the other under her armpit, trying to stop the blood flowing from her injuries. She whirled around to make sure that she was no longer being followed. All she saw was Ezio as the world continued to spin, even though she now stood still.

Cristina felt her knees give as she began to collapse, but Ezio stopped her fall. He cradled her in his arms as he rushed away from the scene of his crimes. She coughed and felt blood bubbling at the corners of her lips.

"Cristina, hold on!" Ezio prayed. "I'll get you to a doctor. You are going to be alright!"

"No, Ezio… I don't think I am." she heard herself say softly.

"NO! Don't go. Stay with me, Cristina."

Cristina blinked hard, and her view of Ezio cleared for a moment. She noticed the dark stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his hair was disheveled. His clothes were soft, and she could see spots of blood speckled on the fabric. Whether it was hers or the guards' or both, she would never know. She smelled his musk, a mix of burnt wood and salty skin, and when her eyes finally met his, the weight of her mistakes plummeted onto her. Or maybe her slowed breathing was what compressed her chest. She could only croak.

"Ezio… don't you know? I've always been with you."

With what little strength she had left, she moved the silk of her corset away to reveal her necklace, the one that he had given to her so many years ago. The one that she refused to remove since. Ezio gasped. Tears streaked down Cristina's face. She sensed that she was dying. She could see it in Ezio's eyes. Those swirls of dark coffee. She swallowed.

"I wish we… could have had… a second chance."

Ezio's expression contorted with pain. His gloved hand reached for her face, gingerly touching the skin of her cheek and the side of her head. Even through the leather, Cristina could feel his radiating warmth. She saw nothing but white as her eyes rolled back. The last thing she heard was Ezio's strained voice. She could only hear two words.

"… my love."

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><p>It would be a long time before Ezio ever mentioned Cristina again. It would be in a letter to his sister, Claudia, in 1511 when he admitted his feelings for Sofia Sartor, but not without remorse. He wrote that, "After the death of Cristina, something inside me withered." It would be something that persisted Ezio for the rest of his life.<p>

He often remembered the days after Cristina died. When he received a parcel addressed to him with his name written in a fine flourish. He remembered how many tears he shed as he read through his letters. She had kept them all. She perserved every moment that she had with him. And he would protect those very moments until his death.

FIN


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